Hold On Mr.! Your Sweetheart is a Real Queen-Chapter 764: Why are you acting coquettishly?

Charlotte’s slender, pale fingers clutched the bedding as she turned away, "I’m going to sleep."

Behind her came a man’s low laughter, followed by the sound of a book being placed on the counter. The man’s heavy body slowly pressed from behind, gathering her petite frame into his arms.

"Sleep? You just woke up and now you’re sleeping again. When did you turn into a pig?"

Charlotte was pressed onto the bed, almost unable to breathe: "Robert, you... Robert, don’t... don’t be naughty."

Her voice was intermittent, weak as if she was on the verge of tears from being teased.

Robert Stephens paused for a moment, then gently sighed, eased up a little, and embraced her, rubbing his chin on the crown of her head, sighing, "Why, why are you so good at playing coquettish?"

Charlotte thought to herself, she’s certainly not.

She just couldn’t stand this man’s teasing, nor did she know how to react under his teasing.

Robert Stephens asked her again, "Why coquettish? Hmm?"

Charlotte sulkily replied, "I’m certainly not."

"Then when was I being naughty? Huh? Asking you which man’s name you called in your dream is being naughty, Charlotte, aren’t you feeling guilty?"

Charlotte kept her eyes shut tightly in his accusation, her long dense eyelashes fluttering lightly, revealing a trace of her inner heart.

She suspected that if she continued to speak, this guy would become more and more pleased, forcing her to admit she was just being coquettish.

The man teased her for a while, seemingly finally satisfied, released her, got up from the bed, straightened his loosely belted velvet robe, and said leisurely to her: "I have to handle some business. You should eat a little something before sleeping; the steward said you didn’t eat much today, which isn’t good."

Charlotte turned around, her round eyes peeking out from the bedding, looking at the man standing by the bed, always feeling that this man was really tall, he’s only twenty-one, he might grow even taller.

What was Robert Stephens’ final height again?

As Charlotte’s mind wandered, Robert gently tapped her forehead with his hand, not sure what he disapproved of then turned around and left.

After a while, a servant came up to knock on the door, bringing her a small bowl of peanut dumplings.

She knew Robert had them sent over, said nothing about it, sat at the bedside, and slowly scooped a bite with the small green porcelain spoon.

After a day of calm, she gradually came back to her senses.

She didn’t know what had happened, but she had indeed returned to the time when Robert Stephens was twenty-one, back to when everything had just started.

Maybe, it wasn’t too late for everything.

*

In the study, the lights were bright.

The handsome and radiant man leaned back in the office chair, eyes half-closed, resting them, only his long fingers holding a golden pen, tapping rhythmically on the desk.

In his ears echoed the murmurs Charlotte uttered while sleeping beside him earlier.

"Sir..."

"Sir..."

"Robert..."

...

Her voice held a sobbing tone, plaintively sorrowful, full of pain and deep emotion.

The cries, one after another, seemed to open a crack in his heart.

Yet the pain came inexplicably.

An email from Nicholas Woods indicated that she hadn’t been in contact with any unusual groups these days, she obediently stayed home every day, quietly waiting for him to return, just like every day before.

But indeed, she had changed somehow.

The pen in his fingers paused lightly, the man lowered his eyes, the dark pupils spread a beam of cold light, like ink melting into ice and snow, the gaze somber and obscure.

*

Charlotte felt that since she had returned to the past, the first thing to do naturally was self-rescue.

When she was a minor, she was already with Robert Stephens, and he had taken her to bed early, so if she wanted to prevent herself from getting pregnant at eighteen, the first thing to stop was the daily entanglement with Robert in bed.

Robert Stephens, this man, appeared gentlemanly, self-disciplined, even celibate, but only she, living and eating with him, knew how hypocritical he was.

He couldn’t even wait until she turned eighteen, preying on her ignorance, tricked her on the night before her eighteenth birthday.

After she turned eighteen, it became even worse, like he wanted to make up for the waiting time in one go.

She was taught when young not to know how to refuse, during the months of Robert’s endless demands, she stayed away from the Smith family for a whole half year.

When the child was conceived, which time it happened, she didn’t know.

Anyway, this time, she won’t let him do it again.

Morning.

Dining room.

"Hmm?" The man slowly put down his coffee cup, his long eyes lifted and glanced at her, "What did you say? Say it again?"

Charlotte clenched her fingers, mustering courage, "I want to go to school."

"Oh." The man withdrew his gaze indifferently, took a light sip of coffee, "What do you want to learn? I’ll get someone to hire a tutor for you."

Charlotte’s voice was as soft as a mosquito’s whine: "I want to go to school."

Robert: "No."

He refused outright, no room for negotiation.

Charlotte choked, hadn’t expected such a crisp and straightforward refusal, widened her eyes slightly, and looked at him in surprise.

"What will I do if you go to school?" Robert said, "I come home from work and can’t see you."

"But everyone my age is attending high school." Charlotte argued, "Robert, I want to go to school too, I want to make friends, I have..."

Robert: "You don’t need friends. You have me, that’s enough."

Charlotte hadn’t expected him to refuse her request to make friends so naturally.

She pursed her lips, feeling a bit upset.

She thought that back then, not understanding anything, if she could have had a friend to give her some advice, things between her and Robert wouldn’t have turned so ugly.

Seeing her brows lowered, her small face showing some depression, Robert softened his voice to comfort her: "Charlotte, if you feel bored at home, then accompany me to the company today. Whatever you want to learn, I’ll teach you, alright?"

Charlotte glanced at him, flinging his face: "Not good."

She remembered she did accompany Robert to the company to handle office work, but after a few days she found it boring. Work was tedious, and furthermore, once Robert entered work mode, he wouldn’t speak to her, directly treating her as an assistant.

She couldn’t keep up with his work pace and was directly kicked out of his office, nearly becoming the coffee girl.

Robert’s brow furrowed, the look on his face a bit somber.

He glanced at Charlotte, displeased.